


Breathe Slow and You'll Find

by Theoroark



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Modern Fantasy AU, Rime Sombra, scorpion widowmaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25264075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Sombra's a seer for Talon. She doesn't see Widowmaker coming.
Relationships: Sombra | Olivia Colomar/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Comments: 15
Kudos: 29





	Breathe Slow and You'll Find

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bloomingcnidarians](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloomingcnidarians/gifts).



> This is a fic in an AU made up by the amazing [Blooming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326248/chapters/50789941). Thank you so so much for letting me play in your sandbox, I hope I did it some kind of justice <3 Highly recommend you catch her fic in this 'verse [here](), and here's some of the art she's done for it:  
> https://twitter.com/bloomingjellies/status/1192579497540718592?s=20  
> https://twitter.com/bloomingjellies/status/1188926605139202048?s=20  
> https://twitter.com/bloomingnsfw/status/1197988217158602758?s=20 (nsfw)  
> https://twitter.com/bloomingnsfw/status/1194392128706625537?s=20 (nsfw)
> 
> I also owe some bits to other people- Sombra's brief fantasy is based off [@Cauchemarxo](https://twitter.com/Cauchemarxo)'s [incredible art](https://twitter.com/Cauchemarxo/status/1271561937021739011?s=20), and Sombra's cat is a cameo from [Kasi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingcranes/pseuds/foldingcranes) [Foldingcranes](https://twitter.com/foldingcranes)'s kitty.
> 
> Edit: Blooming has done incredible art of this fic thank you so so so much!!!! https://twitter.com/bloomingjellies/status/1288579970067886080?s=20

Sombra can’t see the future with her bones. She only sees what was and what is. Like any seer, one time she tried asking what would be– and instead of one answer, her bones shattered in the fire, thousands of shards scattered across her floor. When Sombra tried to read them she found countless, contradictory possibilities, a mess of “What If?”s. Her bones simply reenacted her racing, anxious mind. 

After that, Sombra stuck to asking about the past and present. But sometimes, she thinks she can see clearly what could have been. She could have been a good, respectable member of the Seelie Court. Could have worked as a seer for them, help them find ways around the wards human mages built up. Or if she wanted to be slightly less respectable, she could have covertly signed on with a human investment firm or corporation, made millions as long as no one got caught. 

Instead, Sombra’s sitting in the middle of a circle of demons and vampires. Her bones are in front of her and Akande’s waiting impatiently, his red eyes narrowed. 

“Are you waiting for something?” he asks, and Sombra rolls her eyes. He knows damn well why it’s taking her this long. All these demons, all this hellfire blood– it’s heating up the room, and making it hard for her to start the kind of fire she needs. 

It takes her another minute– Akande sighs– but finally her blue fingertips yield blue flame. It spills into the little dish of kindling Sombra’s set out and she sighs in relief, as the air chills around it. The demons around her take a small step back– Sombra thinks that maybe, after being so at peace for fire with some long, a flame that could burn demon skin seems more frightening than it really is. 

Akande leans forward though. Stares at the bones, when Sombra throws them in, watches them carefully as Sombra mutters his questions. If Sombra knew a little less, she might have thought he was brave for it. 

Her cold flame spits and crackles around the bones, like any other fire, until whatever hands guides her seeing tires of its performance. Then, the bones suck the fire into their crevices, glow blue from their marrow for a moment, and then lie inert on the floor. 

“What do they say?” Akande asks. Sombra ignores him again. She lines out the bones and runs her fingers over them. The cracks and scorch marks left behind by her fire come to life under her touch, the feeling under her skin transforming seamlessly into a whisper in her ear. 

_ Vialli knows Akande knows. He is diverting funds and personnel from the city, preparing to escape. He plans to fly to the Caribbean in three days time, and then assess his options. He will send small squads after Akande and his lieutenants in the mean time, to divert their attention. He is currently in his office building downtown. He does not plan to stay there for long. He does not know you exist. _

Sombra relays their message to Akande, swallowing bile over the last answer. Akande simply nods and straightens up. Whenever Sombra scrys for Akande, she always feels like he’s a hair from saying “Just as I thought.” She feels more like a copy-editor than a spy, most of the time. 

“Vialli will attempt to flee the city this Sunday,” Akande tells the assembled group. “He will attempt to distract us. He will send people to attack you.” There’s some fidgeting now in the crowd, but a sweep of Akande’s red eyes stills the nervousness. “He will do this because he knows our best chance to eliminate him will be before then.”

None of the demons and vampires respond and for a moment, Sombra thinks it’s insolence. Then they start shifting, parting ways for someone. 

Someones. Sombra recognizes Gabe, he and Akande work together often. The demon beside him is new though. Blue and gold skin, exoskeletal features, a long scorpion stinger falling off her head like a ponytail. She looks down at Sombra and all of a sudden, Sombra feels self conscious. Her messy hair and practical clothes felt rebellious, surrounded by snobby upper crust criminals. But before this particular one, Sombra can feel the ice in her hair and along her face subsciously righting itself into something prettier. 

Sombra stands up. She’s still considerably shorter than the demon, but it’s better than being on the floor. The demon’s wearing a face mask but her eyes crinkle before she turns to Akande. 

“Did she say when he’ll be most vulnerable?” the demon asks.

“No,” Akande says. He looks between Sombra and the demon. “Sombra, Widowmaker. Widowmaker, Sombra.”

“Charmed,” Widowmaker says. 

“No one can see the future,” Sombra says. “Akande’ll just have to figure that shit out by actually thinking. Poor guy.”

Behind Widowmaker, Gabe lets out a sigh. No one else in the room reacts. Certainly not Akande. “Because of the small window of time in which Vialli will be vulnerable, we’d like to retain you for surveillance,” Akande tells Sombra. “You, Widow, and Reaper will follow Vialli. He’s paranoid, and well-funded. But he’ll slip up at some point. When he does, the two of them,” he nods to Gabe and Widow, “can catch him.”

“Three full days of my time will cost you.”

“I know,” Akande says. “Meet back here at 0600, tomorrow morning. The three of you will move out then.”

Sombra wouldn’t turn Akande down for a job like this, but it still rankles that he didn’t even give her the option. She nods, shoves her bones in her purse, and heads towards the exit. Gabe falls in step with her, and Sombra can hear Widow behind them as they enter the hall. 

“He really wants Vialli gone,” Sombra says. Gabe grunts. 

“Akande has a lot of money.”

“But she’s right.” Sombra turns and Widow slides between her and Gabe. “If Vialli escapes, our plans are seriously jeopardized.”

Sombra studies her. “I haven’t seen you before,” she says. Widow hums. “How long have Akande’s plans been ‘our’ plans?”

“They’re my plans too,” Gabe grumbles. Widow and Sombra both ignore him. 

“It makes sense you would miss people around here,” Widow says. “You’re a contractor.”

“And you’re not?”

Widow gives a slight smile. “No.”

“I’ve heard about most Talon personnel, all the times I’ve scried. I haven’t heard of you.”

“Then maybe you don’t know what you don’t know,” Widow says. 

They’ve reached the elevator bank. Widow stops as Gabe pushes the “up” button. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” she says to Sombra. 

“Bright and early,” Gabe says, before Sombra can say anything. Sombra rolls her eyes. As the elevator doors shut, Sombra sees Widow’s eyes crinkling again. 

-

Sombra meets with Gabe and Widow at 6 am the next morning. Gabe puts them in a minivan and drives them around the city as Sombra scries on Vialli every time he moves. Her bones are in a tupperware tub in her lap and it’s hard to read when they keep sliding around. Widow’s in the back seat with her, leaving Gabe up front looking like their chauffeur. 

“This was just a pickup,” Sombra tells Gabe, just as he finishes parallel parking a block from a law firm. “He’s going to leave soon. Headed to 54 Homestead Ave after this. We'll be able to beat him there.” Gabe swears under his breath and pulls out of the spot, honking at a car that clearly had the right of way as he does so. 

“I thought you couldn’t see the future,” Widow says. 

“I can’t,” Sombra says. “I just know traffic in this city.”

Widow snorts. “I think you’re the only seer who has such… prosaic concerns.”

Sombra stiffens a little in her seat. Frost starts to form at the ends of her fingertips, her hand closest to the window. “Probably,” she says evenly. 

“If it hadn’t been Akande telling me, I don’t think I would have believed Talon had a seer,” Widow says. “I doubt Vialli knows how we’re finding him.”

“He doesn’t, and he doesn’t know we’re following him,” Sombra says. “I checked.”

“Cautious,” Widow says. 

“Necessary,” Gabe says from the front seat. Widow tilts her head in acknowledgement. Sombra lets the ice crystals fall from her hand as she leans forward, resting her head on her chin. 

“It’s okay,” Sombra says sweetly. “You’ll learn to take those kinds of steps, the more tracking missions you do.”

Widow’s gold eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Most of my tracking missions, I can complete much faster than this.”

“Ah. Your first high-profile case?”

“No, my first with low-quality intelligence.”

“Enough,” Gabe growls. Sombra would be annoyed, but she feels bad for him. Following a human around means daytime work. Which, for a vampire, little sleep and burning pain. The tinted windows and Gabe’s heavy black wraps probably help him some. But it still must be a constant, itching discomfort. Normally she would keep up the needling just to spite him, but she doesn’t have it in her to do that to him today. 

“Just wondering what kind of stuff you’ve worked on before,” Sombra says to Widow. 

“You could just ask that, you know.”

Sombra’s job is asking questions, and so that suggestion should not make her as uncomfortable as it does. She doesn’t ask. She grabs one of the bags of chips that have scattered across the van floor during their stakeout. She holds it out to Widow, who takes a handful. Widow pulls down her face mask when she does and Sombra can see that she has sharp features and sharper teeth. Widow licks her lips when she’s done, like she’s just eaten something truly satisfying, and not something somewhat crumbled and covered in barbeque powder. 

“Why is a seer working for Talon?” Widow asks. 

Sombra freezes. Quite literally, as snowflakes momentarily splinter off of her white hair and blue skin. In the rearview mirror, she can see Gabe’s posture change as well. Widow’s mask is back up, but she seems unphased, unassuming. 

“If you’re not going to ask me anything,” Widow says. “I might as well. I thought all seers worked for Fae courts.”

“Not all,” Sombra says. Widow nods. Waits. Sombra turns and looks out the window. A group of minotaurs in suits are power walking down the sidewalk, bulldozing any other pedestrians out of their way. Sombra focuses intently on that drama.

“She’s not much for conversation,” Widow says to Gabe.

“Normally she won’t shut up. So you know. Thanks.”

“I’m still right here,” Sombra says, irritated. “And I don’t think I’m being rude by not divulging my life story to someone I just met.”

Widow shrugs. “We’re both here now,” she says. “And neither of us is going anywhere for a while. I just thought you might want to get to know one another better.”

Gabe’s speeding up as they approach an intersection, and the light turns red when they’re just far enough away that he has to recognize it. Gabe swears and slams on the brakes, jostling his passengers. Widow’s scorpion tail snaps out to grab her rifle, and then holds it slack as the car settles. Sombra is suddenly struck with the image of that tail wrapping around her waist, the idea of it pulling her close. 

Sombra shakes her head. “We can get to know each other some other way.”

Widow makes a noise Sombra can only think to describe as a titter. “Well. As long as you promise.”

They park at 54 Homestead. Five minutes later, Vialli pulls up and walks in. As Sombra’s throwing her bones this time, she asks a few more questions. 

_ Does Widow want to work here? Is she free to leave? _

The answer comes slow for the last one, and Sombra can feel Gabe’s stare on her as she reads it. The stream of information about Vialli comes easy, as does the first answer about Widow.  _ Yes _ . The second is fragmentary, a few voices talking over each other. But what Sombra can make out is,  _ She could stop working for Talon if she chose to _ .

Sombra sets the bones down, unsatisfied. Gabe’s still watching her. “He’ll be in there for a while,” she tells him. 

“It’s so busy here,” Widow says. “There aren’t any windows. We’ll have to wait for the next one.”

“What if the next one doesn’t work either?” Sombra asks. “What if we never get our chance?”

“It’ll come,” Widow says. 

“So you can see the future, not me?”

Widow’s eyes crinkle. She’s wearing the mask again but Sombra just knows she’s smiling. “It’ll come.”

-

If he’s around when Sombra’s done with her work, Gabe usually calls her a car so she doesn’t have to take the train home. Bitches about her security precautions being a pretense to mooch off him, but does it anyway. This time though Gabe’s distracted or moody or something. It’s their second day of tracking Vialli, and they still haven’t found an opening. After their mark holes up in a very public, well guarded hotel, Gabriel gets out of the car and stands a few yards away to make a call. When he comes back, he says they’re done for the day. 

It might not be pissiness that makes him leave Sombra at the nearest subway stop, now that she thinks about it. Widow doesn’t get out when Sombra does. Gabriel drives away with her and Sombra doesn’t need her bones to know he’s not dropping her off anywhere, they’re just going back to base. 

Sombra doesn’t mind too much. Being on the train is one of the few times she can pare down her multitasking to two things, maybe one thing she’s not busy. Today’s it’s listening to music while she catalogues who’s getting on and off at which stops. 

She gets a text ping towards the end of her ride. It’s from Baptiste.  _ Don’t think I’ll be able to visit in March. I’m thinking about staying here for a while.  _

Sombra raises an eyebrow and texts back. 

_ That’s moving kind of fast, huh? _

_ Haha. It’s not just them. I like the work they’re doing. _

Sombra types out an observation that that is, still, them, then deletes it. Instead she says,  _ Anything you want me to look into? _

Right away, Baptiste writes back,  _ No _ . Then more typing, then,  _ I appreciate it. I’ll let you know if I think there’s a danger. But I trust them _ . 

Sombra rolls her eyes. Baptiste can trust his boyfriends all he wants. They still don’t know as much as she does. Making yourself vulnerable to soothe their egos seems idiotic. 

Baptiste’s not an idiot. He knows better. He has her number. Sombra pockets her phone and gets off at her stop. 

When she gets to her apartment, it’s dark out. Sombra catches a glimpse of her cat’s eyeshine before she turns on the light and sees the creature waiting for her on the sofa. She smiles and scratches the black cat’s ears as she sets her purse down on the coffee table. 

“Hey Leia.”

Leia buries her fuzzy head in Sombra’s hand, leaving Sombra to grope for her bones in her purse one-handed. She dumps them out into a tray on the table– Leia raises her head at the racket they make, and is further perturbed when Sombra takes her hand away. Sombra ignores her pointed rubbing and sets cold fire on the bones. 

_ Is Widow loyal to Akande?  _ she asks.  _ Now that she knows I’m a seer, is she thinking about turning me over? Is she good at her job? _

The fire sputters and dims at the last question. Sombra grits her teeth. Whatever force it is she talks to here doesn’t like subjective questions, but Sombra had thought she could get that one through.  _ Has she succeeded in missions like this in the past? _ she rephrases. 

At this, the fire calms and when Sombra tells it to, vanishes. She picks up the bones and listens. 

_ Widow is loyal to Akande. She is uninterested in personal power and would not consider that. She has not done missions like this before. Akande’s movements to consolidate power are unprecedented in the organization. But she is usually successful in her assignments. _

Sombra sets down her bones. Leia bumps into her now free hands and Sombra resumes scratching absent-mindedly. Whatever answers her questions answers them without regard for their consequences. It balks only at being asked an opinion, and otherwise divulges information without judgment, hesitation, or remorse. Sombra knows most seers don’t think of it as its own entity. They think they’re running their fingers along the fabric of time and space and plucking the answers from those threads. 

Sombra’s better than them, though. She listens to her bones, doesn’t just read them. And when she does, she hears a voice. Seers do not find answers, someone gives answers to them. And right now, whatever it is seemed somewhat annoyed with Sombra when they responded to her. 

Sombra might know something’s there, but she doesn’t know much about it. The one time she tried to ask, her fire died. But she’s felt that annoyance before, and it comes when Sombra’s lying to it. Asking questions she knows the answer to, or doesn’t really want to ask. Whatever it is, it hates secrets. 

Which is too damn bad. Sombra loves her secrets. The more people who know about her, the more people who will ward against her, the more people who will want her dead. Sombra’s strength comes from her secrets, diminishes as they do. Akande knows that, Gabe knows that. Widow must know that too. 

So it doesn’t matter what Sombra wants. Baptiste wants to trust, wants to delude himself into weakness. Sombra can’t take another hit like that. She puts the bones away and goes to feed Leia. 

-

The third day, their chance comes. 

Vialli leaves the city to go to the airport. On the way, he stops by a warehouse. To get more personnel, Sombra’s bones tell her. Because he’s not well guarded now, they confirm. 

Gabe swings the minivan by Vialli’s SUV just as he’s getting out. Widow shoots him, point blank, from the open sliding door, kind of defeating the purpose of a sniper and a long range rifle in Sombra’s opinion. But apparently Gabe’s not taking any chances. Widow lobs a bomb before she slams the door shut. Gabe speeds away. When Sombra looks behind them, she sees a faint purple mist descending on men who are suddenly choking and keeling over. Widow’s own venom, her bones tell her. 

Gabe doesn’t seem too worried about being tailed. Vialli was the last major figure within the organization opposing Akande. The world has opened up before them now. 

It’s midnight when Gabe pulls up outside Sombra’s apartment. She should be annoyed that he breached her security like this, letting Widow know where she lives. She’s more annoyed that he knew she’d be okay with Widow knowing where she lives. 

“Good work,” Gabe tells the two of them. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Sombra turns to Widow. 

“We’re working together more?”

“I don’t know,” Widow says serenely. “I can’t see the future.”

What Sombra wants is risky and dumb. She’ll probably regret it. She should at least wait until she asks her bones more about Widow. But Sombra doesn’t want to wait. She sees this chance, right now, tonight, and doesn’t want to let it go.

“Walk me to the door?” Sombra asks Widow. “Please.”

In the front seat, Gabe sighs. Widow raises an eyebrow. But she gets out of the car with Sombra. She loops her arm in Sombra’s as they walk toward her building. 

“You’re warmer than I expected,” Widow says. 

“You’re not as warm as most demons I know.”

“Cold-blooded.”

“You don’t say.”

Widow’s eyes crinkle. They stop at the front door. Sombra reaches up and pulls Widow’s mask down. Widow’s not smiling. 

“You won’t tell me anything about yourself,” Widow says. “If you just want a fuckbuddy, I’m fine with that. But it’s not fair for you to know so much about me, and me to know nothing about you.”

“I grew up with the Fae,” Sombra tells her. “I only left like– five years ago. Maybe a little more. Don’t remember the exact date. But yeah. I worked with fairies for a while, then I left.”

Widow waits. When Sombra remains silent, Widow says, “That’s not very much.”

“It’s more than normal.”

Widow studies her for a moment. Then she smiles. Leans down, and kisses her. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Widow says. Sombra smiles. 

“I'll see you tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m [@tacticalgrandma](https://twitter.com/tacticalgrandma) on twitter if you want to talk to me there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments or kudos would mean the world to me 💜


End file.
